Well, I kinda feel like I am.
I think it’s a long story… but I’m not sure. You can decide when you get to the end.
See, this post has been mulling and brewing and fermenting in my head for weeks, months even. But every time I sat down to try and write it out it disappeared into the murky fuzz in the back of my brain and refused to come out when called.
I even tried bribing it with promises of fame, and black cherry nougat, but to no avail.
Then a while ago, I was reading blogs- as I do- and I was reading someone I have always found to be incredibly insightful and funny. Someone I’ve been reading for years, and he said in his post that … most of us have a built-in unquenchable need to belong to a demographic… and letting others know which one we belong to… is… important. We’ve always been like this… and something clicked in my head.
I started writing this post then. It’s been nagging at me, and I briefly spoke with my Glugster about it one afternoon- but I knew I would have to post it to make full sense of it, if I could do so at all.
You see. Two major chapters in my life have ended. And they ended fairly suddenly.
Or rather… the one closed a lot sooner than I was expecting it to, and the other I never expected to close at all.
The first chapter that closed- the one had I expected would define a huge part of what makes me who I am forever and ever- is the one where I am a single parent. A single mom. The breadwinner. A solo act.
Because I am technically no longer a single mom.
I know I will always have been a single mom, but I’m not really one anymore.
I sometimes feel like I am betraying a cause by speaking to my Glugster about issues surrounding the knucklehead. Not that I never consulted my folks when I was a single mom- but I did it a lot less than I do now with my sweetheart. And there’s a huge difference between asking your parents about something, or discussing an issue with your parents or with a close friend- and speaking to a partner about those same issues. Your other half will most likely have seen and heard just about everything you’re speaking about. Where a close friend or your parents only have your input, and usually only when you’re pretty much hysterical with frustration.
I know I will always be able to say I was a single mother- that’s not gone- but a little part of me is sad that I can no longer wear that badge. And in all honesty- I’m more than a little sorry to lose that status. I feel like I am giving up my keys to a special limited-access clubhouse.
I am- however- not sorry in the least, that I have someone to share my rollercoaster ride with. And not just “someone”… my Glugster is a gem. He is so very precious to me and I love him so very much. And he has become such an integral part of our family- and us of his- that I honestly am baffled as to how I coped before he took us on!
And take us on he did.
I talk to him about issues around raising the knucklehead, and he is often the one to put the brakes on when I want to say “no” for no apparent reason other than the mommy-paranoia in my head that makes me want to keep Damien home and safe till he’s 30. And I am so blessed because the knucklehead respects him too. And he actually talks to him. It makes my heart glad to see how they interact… its so much more than I could ever have asked for.
And I know I have changed some over the last almost 20 months… but I worry a little about whether or not I will be able to NOT be a single parent if Glugs and I have our own baby!
And then the chapter of my life story that ended before I expected it to- was being a mom to a school boy. Damien is no longer going to school. There’s no more homework stress and no more school fees and no more detention and no more PTA and no more fund raising.
Make no mistake- I SO do not miss the stress related to having an ADHDer at school… I do not miss the cold sweat that breaks out on my temples when the phone rings with either the school’s number or a withheld one. I do not miss the frustration and the arguing and the tears over homework that doesn’t get done or goes missing when it is done. I don’t miss the heartache of seeing him disappointed in himself when he brings home yet another dismal report card. I don’t miss the schlepping back and forth to the school for PTA meetings; the summons to parents’ evenings; the school functions; the fund raising; detention letters… and I’m saving a fortune because I am no longer paying private school fees.
But my heart aches when I think about how I longed for my knucklehead to at least finish high school. Even if he put off studying further till he was older, I so wanted him to at least finish grade twelve. Believe me, my parental dreams of an A student and valedictorian and prefect and such went out the window when the knucklehead was in like grade 2… I was never delusional once he actually started school.
But I know there’s greatness in my boy. I just wish school had been different for him so that he’d been able to see it in himself.
And now I have time and money for myself that I didn’t think I would have for a few years to come… and whilst I am counting my blessings because I can’t believe how lucky I got… sometimes it makes me a little sad.
…come play on my rollercoaster…